Watching people come over every so often to offer toasts.
Chen Xueer fought the urge to slam the table and confront Jiang Cheng.
She ground her teeth and muttered, "scumbag."
Jiang Cheng paid her anger no mind.
His attention was wholly snared by the sudden ring of a phone on the table.
The screen lit up, several WeChat messages popping in quick succession.
Seeing this, Chen Xueer arched an eyebrow and glanced curiously at the phone.
"President Jiang, who knew? Where did you pick up this little beauty?" Her tone dripped with teasing. "That profile pic looks a bit… seasoned. Didn't expect your taste to span such an age range."
Jiang Cheng was long used to her barbed sarcasm.
Without batting an eye he shot back, "Manager Chen, your thinking's a bit extreme. Since when does a mountain view have to mean 'old'?"
Chen Xueer tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled—and certain. "Isn't it obvious?"
One couldn't really blame her for the assumption.
When Jiang Cheng first added Little Mute on WeChat he'd felt the same.
Her avatar didn't seem to match her age; it felt off.
After he later added Huang Yuqi and Ye Wan, that fixed notion began to loosen.
All three used similar mountain-headshots.
And the women shared one trait: kindness.
Little Mute was a small-town girl fighting to make it in the big city.
She often felt timid and out of her depth,
yet she never tried to hide where she'd come from.
Even now, living in a multimillion-yuan flat and carrying designer bags, her life transformed beyond recognition,
her WeChat avatar remained the same plain mountain scene.
What was rarer: sudden wealth hadn't sent her flooding moments with flashy displays.
She stayed low-key and humble, unspoiled by material things.
Huang Yuqi, a volunteer teacher, embodied the word "kind".
She rarely posted on moments; when she did, it was photos of donated gifts being unpacked.
Ye Wan, Little Mute by comparison, was innocence personified.
A first-year student, she simply worked part-time to support herself—what ulterior motive could she have?
Jiang Cheng glanced at Chen Xueer, his tone unconsciously turning serious.
"Chen Xueer, if you've got a problem, say it straight—no need for roundabout digs."
Seeing his face chill, Chen Xueer blinked,
but felt no resentment.
She only recalled his promise on the stairs not to hide anything from her.
With that, she sweetly plucked a grape from her plate.
"Don't be mad—here, cool off."
Watching the dark-purple grape she offered, Jiang Cheng bit it clean in half.
"Well? How's my grape?"
"Mm—big, sweet."
His answer lit her face with a grin.
"I'll give you the other one too~~"
The moment he finished, the middle-aged man who'd been quietly noting things while eating abalone snapped back to attention, phone poised to record—only to mutter in dismay, "Why'd he stop?"
The student beside him stifled a laugh. "And they say grad students are smart…"
Jiang Cheng, still chewing, opened wechat.
Huang Yuqi: "Jiang Cheng, sorry—I'll be late back to Rongshan. Grandma's ill; I need to stay and look after her."
His brows knitted instantly; without thinking he rang her.
On the other end Huang Yuqi sat by a hospital bed, her grandmother pale as paper.
Seeing Jiang Cheng's call, she felt a strange relief.
She inhaled softly. "Hello, Jiang Cheng."
His voice came urgent: "What happened? Is she okay?"
"She was fine this morning. I was packing when I heard a crash outside—she'd collapsed."
"Did she hit her head?"
"No, she seemed to squat first, then faint…"
"Good. At hospital?"
"Yes, neighbors helped; I was terrified."
"Don't worry. Need me to send someone?"
"Not yet. Grandma's usually healthy; we're waiting on tests."
"Call if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks."
He hung up; Chen Xueer had caught the gist.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He was already dialing Chen Ping. "Teacher Huang's grandmother's sick."
"Teacher Huang?" It took her a second.
Chen Ping answered at once; Jiang Cheng briefed him.
When the call ended, Chen Xueer finally placed the name.
From Jiang Cheng's side of the conversation it was clear he'd volunteered help.
The more she heard, the more thoughtful her expression grew—her imagination running wild.
Still, remembering his earlier tone, she kept the teasing in check.
She asked outright, "So… you and this Teacher Huang?"
He cut her off.
"Not what you think. She's a good, decent woman. I'm helping with no strings."
Seeing his earnest face, she nodded.
"Fair. Honestly, I still find it surreal—you, of all people, funding all those Hope Primary Schools. Handsome, notorious scumbag, yet doing real charity… incredible."
She sipped her wine.
Jiang Cheng pocketed his phone.
With Fang Yuan gone, the Security Team had taken over handing out red envelopes.
He caught Wang Sheng's eye and flicked a subtle hand signal.
Wang Sheng stepped over at once.
"Arrange the car; we're heading back," Jiang Cheng murmured.
Then, as if just remembering, he turned to Chen Xueer. "Where are you staying tonight?"
She set down her glass, ready to leave.
"Business trip—Hilton, on the company."
He laughed as he stood. "So matter-of-fact. Not saving your boss a cent. Honestly, skip the hotel—just stay at my place."